When last seen on a broadcast for which consumers paid up to $54.95 per household, America's most famous heavyweight fighter was celebrating the championship he unified in only his fifth professional fight. He did this by ranting against a beer company sponsor, announcing his intention to get conjugal with his wife (a former pro wrestling valet) and giving fans the finger.
So, no, I wouldn't mind seeing Brock Lesnar fight Fedor Emelianenko, as I think the Russian would have his way with the former WWE superstar. Emelianenko, a professional fighter since 2000, has a single loss on his record, that one due to an odd rule about cuts invoked 17 seconds into a bout with a Japanese fighter on Dec. 22, 2000 in Osaka. Fedor might not be the most famous of the big men, at least not in this country; but he is the best.
What's more, he's a welcome contrast to Lesnar's tired act. He arrived for his press conference Wednesday afternoon in a plain white T-shirt — no slogans or logos to denote his toughness or coolness — black sneakers and jeans. There is something completely unassuming in his expression, a stillness in the way he carries himself. He has ice-blue eyes and an occasional grin. He does not raise his voice. At 230 pounds, he doesn't take up much space, or generate much heat.
It's not the American way. He doesn't need to generate awe. There's nothing identifying him as a fighter: no bulging, striated muscles acquired in the weight room or via Mexican pharmacy, no tats, no tough talk and not much of an entourage except for a Russian Orthodox priest who travels with him. "The guy's got this beard," it was explained to me. "Looks like he plays for Anthrax."
But the priest did not attend the press conference, so I was left to ask Fedor if he had seen Lesnar's fight with Frank Mir at UFC 100.
"I did not have an opportunity to see the last fight," he said through an interpreter. "but I saw previous fights."
And your impressions?
"He's very strong," Emelianenko deadpanned. "A very serious fighter, a very good fighter."
